


Guilty, Probably

by Never_Eat_Sour_Wheat



Series: The Smiling Twenties [8]
Category: Smile For Me (Video Game)
Genre: 1920s, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Prohibition Era, Flirting, Lawyers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 09:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21492223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Never_Eat_Sour_Wheat/pseuds/Never_Eat_Sour_Wheat
Summary: Parsley's facing getting kicked out of his apartment, or going without food, or any other number of financial issues. He's got no where to turn (except maybe his dad, but he's not that dry up yet). Except...well, that was months ago, but perhaps the mob still needs a lip.
Relationships: Kamal Bora/Dr. Boris Habit
Series: The Smiling Twenties [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1500791
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	Guilty, Probably

**Author's Note:**

> I did...a lot of research on lawyers and money in the 20s for this. I threw almost everything about public defenders out the window. Nothing in this is accurate, from a legal standpoint. Probably from any other standpoint too, to be honest. We're getting into the juicy stuff now folks! I hope you enjoy!

“This is getting ridiculous,” Parsley muttered to himself. He was looking through his bills, trying not to put his head in his hands and give up. 

When he and Martin had pooled their money together, they’d had more than enough to pay for bills and some small lugaries. But now...well, now he was on his own. And he’d been getting less and less cases. It seemed that either people were getting arrested less, or more and more people could afford their own lawyers. He set the bills down, took off his reading glasses, and put his head down on his desk. Rent, heat, water, those were the most important ones. But he still needed money for food and gas...he sighed and pulled his head back up. He grabbed the bills again and looked them over. It always seemed like they were getting higher, even if they weren’t. “I could ask Dad for help…” he muttered, before shaking his head. No way, he wasn’t going to go crawling to his dad.

But...the whole reason his dad had money was because he worked for the mob. Who had offered him a job…

He shook his head again. No, he wasn’t going to work for the mob. He didn’t need that in his life. Even if it was already in his life...all the more reason to not have it directly in his life, he was already in too deep. He set the bills down and stood to stretch his back. He’d just have to drive and eat less...not that big of a deal. Restraining certain aspects of his life would be fine. Not the end of the world.

* * *

“What do you mean you’re finding a new lawyer?” He asked, staring at his client in defeat.

“You just...you seem distracted! And I really can’t afford to lose her…” Parsley felt bad for yelling as soon as the man spoke. 

This was the second client he’d be losing that month, but he felt bad for both of them more than he felt bad for himself. Both were divorce cases. Which...well, it was a bad scene. No matter if the accusations were correct or not, divorce was always a bad scene. The poor woman who had been his client had dropped the charges entirely. Parsley was pretty sure that she desperately needed the divorce. But, there was nothing he could do. This time around he was defending the man, but it didn’t look good for him. Adultery was always a hard subject. 

It didn’t help that every time he had to hear the word divorce he thought of Martin. That’s why he was distracted.

“Look I...I get it, find a different lawyer. They’ll probably do better for you,” he said, nodding to the man.

“Thank you…” the man said, standing up.

“I hope it works out for the two of you.” The man nodded before exiting Parsley’s office. Parsey groaned and slammed his head against the desk. Which made him hiss in pain.

He’d sunk this whole month into these two cases. The end of the month was coming up, bills would be due. He’d barely scraped by enough for last month. He was doomed. He wouldn’t be pulling in the money from either case, and he didn’t have the time to take on any new cases. He was going to lose his shitty apartment. He’s have to sleep on the streets. Or his dad’s couch, which would be humiliating. All because he couldn’t prove some stupid people guilty.

Oddly enough that was the thought that rattled around in his head on the way home. Proving people guilty. What if he’d been wrong? What if some of the people he sent to jail were innocent? Their life had been in his hands, and there was a fifty-fifty chance that he’d doomed them for no reason. Logically the chance that he was right was higher, there was evidence, but...evidence could be faked.   
Guilty.

Then there were people like Martin. Martin had been innocent but Parsley had decided that he was guilty anyways. Parsley was the guilty one, wasn’t he? He’d gone to the speakeasy that night, he’d been the one to lose his cool. How many times had Martin told him to leave? And how many times had he been innocent when he’d been told that? Who was to blame?

Guilty.

His dad. Now there was a mess. His dad worked for the mob. But all he did was mix drinks, he’d been doing that as long as Parsley could remember. Just because the law changed, suddenly his dad was guilty? For something that had been innocent for years? It didn’t make sense, it wasn’t fair. Were laws ever fair? What a silly thought, of course they were. Right? Then why did he feel like this?

Guilty.

Parsley felt some small part of him snap, or shift, or...something. He wasn’t helping people. That’s all he’d ever wanted to do, but he wasn’t helping a single person. Part of him argued that it wasn’t true, that’d he’d helped plenty of innocent people, but he didn’t have it in him to listen. He didn’t know. Nothing was certain. He could’ve helped more guilty people than innocent ones and he’d never know. He would never know.

There was one way to know.

He turned on his heel and began making his way to a familiar laundromat. It was a rash decision, but he was making it. He’d have time to second guess it later. Except that he wouldn’t, because as soon as he was in, he would be in deep.

At least he’d know that he was defending guilty people, instead of praying for an innocent client. 

Guilty…

He stood in front of the laundromat for a few minutes, just staring at the sign. It wasn’t fancy, just some simple block lettering spelling “Habit’s Laundry”. That was the boss’s name, Habit. It was a surprise to him that he put his name out there like that. Then again, Parsley hadn’t heard of a Boris Habit before meeting the two men that one night. They must have some really good strategy to get them out of trouble. Maybe...maybe that Bora fellow wasn’t the only one who had managed to lie to the court about his gender. Well, to the court it wasn’t lying but...Parsley shook his head. He didn’t need to be thinking about gender that way right now. He’d had plenty of that in high school.

He stepped into the laundromat and looked around. There was someone different behind the counter, a tall woman. Parsley definitely didn’t recognize her. Still, she had to know about the stuff going on downstairs if she worked here. There wasn’t anyone else in the laundromat at the moment, so he figured it was safe to use the password. He walked up to the counter and the woman raised an eyebrow at him. “Smile for me,” he muttered, just barely loud enough for her to hear. She looked worried, but only for a moment.

“That’s not open right now sir,” she said. Parsley nodded, but decided not to back down. He needed to do this now before he lost his nerve.

“Can I at least talk to the bosses? Or have a phone number or something?” 

“No. I suggest you leave.” The woman sounded angry but Parsley wasn’t backing down.

“Look, I know people involved, they’ve offered me a job, I’m serious, I just need to see your bosses-” He cut himself off when the woman stood up. She was very tall, not as tall as Habit, but no less intimidating. 

“I said no. Please leave and-”

“I’m sorry Borbra, but who is this?” Both of them jumped. They turned to see a slim man standing in the doorway to the back room. He was looking at the two of them with an eyebrow raised. “I must admit that he looks awfully familiar..”

“I’m...Parsley Botch,” Parsley said, deciding this guy must be involved so it must be fine to give him his name. The man lit up in a way that Parsley definitely wasn’t expecting. 

“I know your father! What are you doing here young man?” The man asked. Parsley smiled sheepishly.

“I’m uh...the bosses offered me a job a couple months back. I wanted to see if it was still available.” The man nodded along before turning the the woman (who Parsley was guessing was Borbra). 

“His story checks out. He is Jimothan’s son, and frequents the Habitat. Even if he’s lying about the job, I believe we can trust him,” the man said. Borbra nodded and sat down.

“Good. Sorry about that Botch. Can never be too careful.” She winked at Parsley and he smiled back cautiously. The man gestured to the back room, and Parsley followed him. The man shoved the bookshelf aside easily.

“Wow...you’re strong,” Parsley commented. The man chuckled.

“One of the advantages,” he said, smiling in a way that showed off his teeth. Parsley froze up at the sharp fangs, before relaxing. Only to tense up again.

“I know you! You’re Trencil!” He said. Trencil smiled again, softer this time.

“I’m glad to know that Jimothan has told you about me. It would be a shame to have to introduce myself,” Trencil said. He started down the stairs and Parsley followed him. They walked in silence for a little while, before Trencil took a deep breath. “You know, your father talks about you quite a bit. Perhaps you could visit him outside of work more? I’m sure he would-”

“Okay, um, I get it. You want my dad happy, thanks for that. You make him happy enough as is, don’t try to rope me into doing more,” Parsley interrupted. Trencil nodded, but Parsley did take note that he was smiling. 

“I’m afraid I’ll have to depart shortly after showing you to the bosses’ office. I have a client to work with today.” Parsley paled and Trencil put a hand on his shoulder. It was oddly comforting. “I no longer work here, do not worry. I am a freelance gardener, my clients aren’t in any danger. Unless they happen to be weeds.” Trencil chuckled, and Parsley gave him a shaky smile.

“It’s a good thing you were here, even if you don’t work here...I’d hate to be thrown out,” Parsley said. Trencil nodded.

“I just popped in to talk to Habit. He has a soft spot for gardening. You should ask him about it some time,” he said. Parsley chuckled. There was no way he was asking the bosses about their personal lives. They were getting close to the end of the hallway, and Parsley felt some fear beginning to build. Trencil nodded to the body guard outside the door. Parsley noticed it was a different man than the one who was usually at the entrance to the Habitat at night. He shouldn’t have been surprised by that, but somehow he was. “He’s doing a last minute job interview Ronbo,” Trencil said. “I trust you can help him exit if necessary.” A shiver went up Parsley’s spine at Trencil’s tone. Apparently he could only be trusted so much. 

“Thanks Trencil,” he said, making sure his voice was distant.

“Any time. You should ask your father about visiting me some time. I’m sure my daughter would love to meet you,” Trencil said. Parsley’s jaw dropped and Trencil cackled. Ronbo smirked at the two of them. Trencil composed himself and smiled at Parsley. “I’m not joking, I’m sure Nat would love to meet you,” he said. Parsley nodded dumbly and watched as Trencil left.

“Is it short for Natalie or Batalie?” He yelled after Trencil. He regretted it for a moment before both of the men in the hallway began to laugh. 

“You’ll just have to meet her and see!” Trencil called back. And just like that, he was gone. 

Parsley turned to the bodyguard, Ronbo, and smiled awkwardly. Ronbo just smiled and turned to knock on the door. Parsley noticed that it was an odd sort of knock, but he didn’t notice in time to pick up on what it was. Must have been a safety percussion. 

“Yes?” A familiar voice called. A deeper one, with a Russian accent. It still made Parsley shiver. 

“A certain Botch is here to see you boss,” Ronbo said.

“Whatever Jimothan needs can wait!” Parsley relaxed slightly at hearing Kamal’s voice. For some reason, Kamal made him a lot less anxious.

“Not that one,” Ronbo said. There was some shuffling of feet and papers behind the door.

“Let him in!” Kamal called. Ronbo opened the door and Parsley stepped inside the office.

It was huge, and really fancy. Done up in a Georgian Era style, it was very different from the Habitat itself. The room had a blue color scheme, with splashes of yellow and green to compliment it. The desk the two mob bosses were sitting at was beautiful a dark oak that shone as if it had just been polished. It was covered in paperwork, not organized in any was Parsley had seen before. The room was breathtaking, but there was one thing that stuck out like a sore thumb. An ugly green couch that looked more than past its prime. It wasn’t quite threadbear, but it was close. And the green was certainly an...interesting color. “Botch?”

Kamal’s voice snapped Parsley out of his thoughts. He turned back to the desk and found that Habit was sitting behind it, and Kamal was sitting on the desk itself. Kamal was wearing a flapper dress today, for some reason. Habit had his, apparently, signature coat on. They looked odd, but everything about today had been odd for Parsley. “What can we help you with?”

“I was wondering if your proposition still stands?” Parsley asked. Kamal seemed to perk up, and Habit got an odd shine in his eyes. “I haven’t exactly quit being a public defender yet, but I’m willing too and-”

“We’d love to have you on board Parsley,” Habit said. He stood and Parsley felt another shiver go down his spine. “We’ll pay you monthly, if that’s alright.” Parsley relaxed immediately. Not being paid by case would be very nice. “You’ll get a months payment up front today. We’ll stay in touch from there.” Parsley nodded and watched as Habit walked over to a picture on the wall. He took it down, and there was a safe behind it. Cliche, but Parsley supposed it was effective. Habit fiddled with the lock for a moment, while Kamal hopped off the desk to come stand next to Parsley. He hips swayed slightly, and the dress went with it. Parsley tried his best not to stare.

“It’s great to have you one board Botch,” he said, putting a hand on Parsley’s arm. He then used that to drag Parsley down so he could whisper to him. “You’re making a big decision here. You may want to think for a minute before you give Boris that final yes.” Parsley turned his head to look at Kamal. “Oh, and you’re allowed to stare. I’m sure Boris won’t mind.” Parsley turned beat red, and Kamal giggled. Habit turned to look at them, but he was smiling warmly.

“‘Mal, what rumors are you spreading? He hasn’t even officially joined yet!” Habit asked. Kamal just giggled again. Habit shook his head, apparently amused, before coming over to Parsley and handing him a wad of cash.

A big wad of cash.

“Six hundred dollars a month. Here you are up front.” Parsley’s jaw dropped and he looked up at Habit. Who...winked at him. “Only the best for our lip. But...we will be expecting the best from you as well. Not just as a lawyer, but as a businessman. We will eventually require from you more than an average lawyer is expected to give.” Parsley nodded along dumbly. “Are you up to the challenge?”

Parsley stopped in his tracks and considered it. He had six hundred dollars in his hand right now. He would get that monthly if he took this offer. If he didn’t he’d be kicked out of his apartment. If he took the offer he would have a steady group of clients, and could keep doing something he loved. If he didn’t, he’d probably lose his job and have to look into something outside of his field. If he did this, there was no going back. If he didn’t he could always recollect himself and go back to his old life later. If he did this he would be guilty. 

Guilty…

Well, what was the point of innocence?

He held his hand out and Habit shook it, then Kamal. “I’m glad to be on board.”

“Parsley Botch-” they said at once, both putting a hand on his shoulder. “-welcome to the Habiticians.”


End file.
